


End Of The Rainbow

by Kymopoleia



Series: Senior Breakfast [2]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: M/M, i promise it'll get there, stiiiiiilllll not together, vlad may still need to chill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 21:24:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6094453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kymopoleia/pseuds/Kymopoleia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nine o’clock on Saturday morning is not Dash Baxter’s ideal time to be awake. It is not his ideal time to be doing <em>anything</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	End Of The Rainbow

Nine o’clock on Saturday morning is not Dash Baxter’s ideal time to be awake. It is not his ideal time to be doing _anything_ , let alone driving. It is not his ideal time to be dragging himself out of his bed and into a pair of jeans and an old Packer’s jersey, nor is it his ideal time to be brushing his teeth, splashing water in his face, or grabbing his wallet and car keys and heading downstairs- tiptoeing past the kitchen, where his uncle is making breakfast- and sliding into his car.

It is, however, his ideal time to be waiting in line at the local Gorebucks to load up on caffeine with a gigantic muffin and the largest, sweetest hot coffee they had. And, while less ideal, it felt like it wouldn’t be a bad time to hover outside of the doors to City Hall eating his muffin, then going inside and seeing about talking to the Mayor…

Which sounded a lot harder than it actually was. He asked the woman at the front desk and she, smiling, directed him up the stairs and told him to walk right in. There was some kind of warning about glowing, but Dash brushed it off and smiled at her, following her instructions.

He raps twice on the big wooden doors when he finds them, right where the secretary said they would be. Then, not hearing anything, steps into the room.

There’s a lamp on the desk, casting a pitiful puddle of yellowish light over the mayor’s hand and the crumpled, folded left sleeve of his dress shirt. Half of his face has the imprint of a stapler in it, and his hair is a tousled mess covering his shoulders. The contrast with the confident man Dash had met the night before is one for the record books, completely shocking him.

But the reason why he pauses in the doorway isn’t the remains of his once crisp suit, nor is it the downturned corners of his mouth.

It’s the glowing red eyes.

Dash freezes, breath caught in his throat as he _stares_ hard, body tense and hands shaking.

Just as quickly as he’d seen them, Vlad blinks them away.

“Mr. Baxter?” He calls. “Is that you, at…” He glances around the room, then at his empty wrist.

“Nine forty, sir.” Dash supplies. He remains, anxiously, in the doorway.

“Ah. Yes. Come in, sit down.” Vlad rubbed his face with one hand, using the other to gesture at the seat in front of him. “How was the game? I could not stay long after our talk.”

Dash closes the door behind him and makes his way to the seat, the hairs on his arms still raised from the inhuman way Vlad’s eyes had glowed. “We won. Did you fall asleep in your office?”

Vlad blinks in confusion before swiveling his chair around to look at the massive wall of windows facing the fresh downtown skyline. Dash can hear the small gasp of surprise, but when Vlad turns back to him, all surprise is masked with amusement. “It seems I did. I’m still getting used to the adjustment from business to civil service, I’m sure you understand how difficult that is.”

Dash nods, sipping his coffee. “And the switch between Wisconsin and Illinois must be just as hard.”

Vlad smiles. “It was an easy move, and satisfying at that. I have always preferred city life to the countryside. But, enough about me. I assume you found your way to the end of the rainbow easily?”

Dash nods, sitting forward. “I couldn’t sleep very well last night. Your offer- was it an offer?”

“If you can convince me that it was.”

“Well, it stuck with me. I want to get places in my life. I know I can get there on my own, but I also know that having someone on my side is good.”

“Interesting phrasing, Mr. Baxter.” Vlad folds his hands under his chin. “Someone on your side. Do you believe I could be that someone?”

Dash lifts his coffee and shrugs, a smile finding its way onto his face. “If you can convince me that you’re the right someone.” He echoes.

Vlad reaches for his phone and holds up a finger, eyes sparkling. He speaks quickly, telling whoever to get him an iced coffee. The coldest Gorebucks could make. When he hangs up, he reaches back to tie his hair up, mouth opening to explain. “Cold coffee wakes me, and I’d prefer to be as awake as possible as we negotiate.”

Dash can’t help it if his jaw drops a little bit. “Negotiate?” He asks disbelievingly. “What are we negotiating?”

Vlad pauses. “Are we not on the same page, Mr. Baxter?”

“Dash.” He cuts in. “If I call you Vlad, you call me Dash.”

“Yes, of course, my bad. I want you to be on my team. My side.”

Dash waves his hand, eyebrows rising. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“For now, a paid internship. If it plays out to both our advantages, maybe more.”

“You want me on an internship? A paid internship?” Dash can’t believe it. He uses his free hand to pinch the back of his hand, and finds that it doesn’t wake him up. As, sadly, it never seems to. “That’s what you wanted when you talked at me last night?”

“At you, Dash?” Vlad blinks in honest surprise. “You make it sound as if my offer is unsolicited.”

Dash scoffs. “I have football and track, yeah, but I have a B minus average and no skills in…” He gestures around the office. “Filing papers and shit.” He winces immediately. “Sorry, habit. I have no skills in filing or whatever it is interns do.”

“The point of high school internships is learning the trade. Besides, if you were only a common intern, it may have been a larger problem.”

“How would I not be a common intern?”

Vlad laughs, eyes slitting shut and shoulders shaking. “Dash, do you think all interns are usually chosen by their respective bosses? I can count on one finger the number of times I have personally handled the hiring of an intern, even looking back at my roots as a former small business owner. You’re special, my boy. You have a lot of potential, and I would like to foster that potential and see it grow. Your official title will be that of the common intern, but you will seem more like a prodigal son, like a protégé,”

“Like a pet project?” Dash supplies.

“You could say that.” Vlad nods. “Does the sound of that appeal to you? Would you object to being a bird in my cage, a tool in my arsenal, a partner in crime?”

Dash thinks for a minute, drumming his fingers on his coffee cup. Vlad is leaning forwards, completely focused on Dash.

The pause stretches between them, the only sound being their breaths and the soft tapping of Dash’s shoe against the shaggy rug beneath the Mayor’s desk.

Before Dash can say anything, there’s a knock on the doors, and he can’t help snicker at how Vlad rolls his eyes, sighing in annoyance.

“Come in!” He calls, fingers falling to drum on his desk.

The door creaks hideously as it opens, and the secretary from before stands, holding a tall cup of coffee in one hand and the doorknob in her other, like she’s expecting to need to run. Dash remembers the terrifying eyes from before and doesn’t blame her.

“Mayor Masters?” She says. “I have your coffee.”

Vlad hums appraisingly and beckons her forwards. “Thank you, Bethany. Have I had any calls?”

She shakes her head as she crosses the room, her heels clacking loudly on the tile floors. When she reaches the thick rug under the desk, she reaches out and places the coffee on Vlad’s desk. Dash notices the Gorebucks label on the side and raises his own cup for a long sip.

“You got an iced coffee, correct?” Vlad asks, already lifting the drink to take a long gulp.

The secretary, Bethany, nods curtly. “Do you need anything else, Mayor?”

Dash notices the corner of Vlad’s mouth quirk up. “No, I have everything I need. Did you relieve Gretchen?”

Bethany nods. “Of course, she stayed all night.”

Vlad nods back and waves his hand. “You may go home.”

Dash watches her clack out of the room, then turns back to Vlad, still chuckling.  
Vlad picks his coffee up again and takes another long drink of it, wincing when it hits his lips and sighing when he pulls it away from his mouth. “Hot coffee lulls me right to sleep. I forgot to ask Gretchen to switch to ice last night, it must be why I passed out on the desk.”

“How late were you up?” Dash sets his own drink down, gently, on the edge of the desk closest to him. “I was going to wait, but something about this morning felt right.”

Vlad shakes his head. “No, you’re fine. I appreciate how prompt you were in coming to me, Dash.” Once again, he takes his time to drag out Dash’s name, sending a shiver down his back. “Rainbows are, after all, short-lived.”

Dash rubbed at his jeans. “Yeah, I know.”

Vlad pauses, tapping at the desk with his nails. Dash notices the light catching on them and realizes that not only are they manicured, but that they’re covered in clear nail polish. Dale had introduced the team to the practice, and the Nail Salon downtown had come to recognize the team as regulars. Seeing Vlad’s nails reminds Dash of how he’d need to get his own done, and he coughs.

“Where were we?” Vlad asks, flashing a brief smile.

“Your offer. I was about to tell you that I want to take it.” Dash replies, internally steeling himself.

Vlad’s eyes light up and his fingers fall to rest on top of the desk, old and worn but still smooth. “Excellent! Would you like to fill out the paperwork now, or do you need more information or time?”

Dash picked up his coffee to take a quick sip, wincing as it makes a loud noise, already empty. He resists the urge to nibble on the straw and sets it back down on the desk. “I can do it now, I don’t need to be at lunch until eleven.”

Vlad’s eyes brighten further, and Dash swears he sees a scarlet shimmer in them before he blinks, and the older man’s eyes return to their normal stormy-blue. “It’ll take no time at all, Dash. I know I have the form somewhere around here…” He breaks eye contact to look around the desk, patting at the piles of papers with quickly narrowing eyes. “I know I had Gretchen print one off last night…” He frowns.

Dash pulls his cup back as Vlad starts rearranging the piles, unable to keep his eyes from following Vlad’s hands as they move over the desk. He has big, strong hands, and Dash likes watching how they move.

Vlad glances back up at Dash, flashing yet another smile. “I’m not usually so disorganized, I promise.” He says, tone bleeding embarrassment over the state at which he’d been caught in.

Dash leans back in his chair slowly. “It’s fine, take your time. Will it be part of my job to take care of all this?” Dash gestures at the desk. “Clean it all up so you don’t have issues?”

Vlad shuffles a few papers he’d found in a manila folder. “Yes, I believe it would be. I thought you said you didn’t know how to file?”

“I thought you said internships were the place to learn?”

Vlad hums. “Touché, Dash.” He hands him the papers from the folder and starts clearing papers out of the way so that Dash has a place to fill them out. “Hand me that cup? It is empty, yes?”

Dash nods and passes it over, picking up a pen from the supply mug in front of him. When he presses it to the paper, a shimmery green ink comes out, and after squinting at it he realizes that the ink is green and gold. He glances up at Vlad, beyond amused.

Vlad rolls his eyes. “I never said I was not a fan.” He huffs, scooting his chair over to the side of the desk to throw out the cup. “I only use it on official documents sometimes.”

Dash chuckles. “Are you usually this… open with interns?”

“Only the one I’ve picked myself.” Vlad reaches forwards and picks up a pen of his own, and they begin to work in silence.

The form is easy enough. He fills out his name and address, his social security number after only a second’s pause, and then his education, employment history, and availability are beyond easy to finish. He’d felt eyes on him several times as he sat, the Packers pen moving over the paper neatly and his left foot tapping on the carpet gently. If he listened hard enough, he could hear the muffled hustle of Amity’s downtown outside, and the hum of the air conditioning system, even the soft scratching of their pens and the rustle of the papers. Dash pulls his phone out after he’s finished to check the time, and sees that it’s almost 10:45, a sure sign that he should be leaving soon.

But he looks up to see Vlad staring at him, his dominant hand still curled around his pen but being used to prop his chin up rather than continue writing. Some of his hair has come out of the ponytail, and a piece of the ponytail is tossed haphazardly over his shoulder, looking just as rumpled as the rest of him.

“Done?” Vlad asks, putting his pen down.

Dash nods and picks up the papers, glancing down at them for a moment before he hands them to the Vlad.

The other man looks them over for a moment before pausing, gaze raising to Dash’s with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Is something wrong?” Dash shifts.

“Your first name is Aaron?”

Dash pauses then laughs once, a short surprised burst. “Yeah, did you think my dad picked ‘Dash’ when I came out? Nah. Picked ‘Dash’ up sometime in middle school.”

Vlad nods. “Why does the name ‘Aaron Baxter’ sound familiar?”

Dash shrugs. “Maybe you met my uncle? I was named after him. He was a doctor in Wisconsin before he died.” He crosses his arms, thinking about Uncle Aaron and repressing a shudder.

Vlad’s eyes light up in recognition as he nods. “Ah, yes, I think I’ve been treated by him.” He looks back at the papers in his hands and opens a drawer to search for something. “Well, I see your number is on the form, so that’s all I need from you today. Didn’t you say you had lunch plans?”

Dash uncrosses his arms to pull out his phone again, and sees that he already only has seven minutes left to get there on time, and given how often everyone else was to being early, he’d probably be considered unfashionably late. Getting between Star or Dale on their way between the table and the all-you-can-eat buffet at their favorite hangout that wasn’t the Nasty Burger. After the explosion and the drama during the beginning of Vlad’s campaign, they’d found other options in town, and the little Taco place off of Main street was perfect for them to all go when they wanted privacy, as the only other customers they’d seen in there had been the Fentons (without Jazz or Danny) and Wes’ mom when she took him out every once in a while.

Dash tears his eyes from his phone, suddenly aware of the silence, and the time that had passed as he thought about it. “Um, call me with whatever you need to talk to me about tomorrow?” He offers, standing slowly. “Big day today, with the dance and everything.”

Vlad stands, one hand falling to steady himself. He offers his other hand for a shake. “Of course, Dash. I look forward to seeing what we can offer each other.”

Dash squeezes Vlad’s hand, letting their hands rise and fall once, twice, three times firmly. “Yes sir.”


End file.
